


wherever you are

by TricksterNag1to



Series: Chainsmokers AU [21]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: And burnt toast, Discussions of Surgery, F/M, Hinata is a bad cook but Tsumiki loves him anyway, Trans Characters, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 11:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11690904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksterNag1to/pseuds/TricksterNag1to
Summary: Tsumiki and Hinata spend a lazy morning together. It's a shame he's a horrible cook.





	wherever you are

Mikan Tsumiki blinked the sleep from her eyes, snuggled up in warm flannel sheets. Next to her was Hajime Hinata, curled up to her side with the covers pulled up to his chin, surprisingly baby-faced in his rest. A little bit of drool leaked out of the corner of his mouth and she had to hold back a laugh. 

 

This was a nice way to wake up, she thought. Especially in the winter when Hinata would come into her bed for warmth when Nanami was spending time with their sister. He was like a space heater. She was always fairly cold - she'd had poor circulation from a very young age, and her doctors had simply given up on trying to fix it. That didn't surprise her; she wasn't really worth their effort and was already infinitely grateful that they'd even deigned to look at her. 

 

Her disgusting self-pity aside, the day had to start somewhere. Moving slowly so as not to wake her boyfriend, Tsumiki stood up and pulled on a sweater. Maybe she would make breakfast. That would make Hinata happy, but she was still awfully tired. Maybe it could wait a few more minutes. And maybe she could get back into bed for a few more minutes…..

 

“Tsumiki-san, it's time to wake up.” The soft words floated in and around her head, little fluffy cloud syllables that smelled like tea and honey. She pushed her face further into the pillow. 

 

“Mmmh, five more minutes,” she breathed, curling her toes.

 

Strong, gentle hands shook her ever so slightly. “Please, Tsumiki-san? I made French toast and I think it turned out okay enough to eat. I hope. I kind of guessed with cooking times but it doesn't look disgusting. Anyway, not the point, the point is that I made breakfast and you should have some.” She opened her eyes to see Hinata sitting next to her, shirtless and in loose pajama pants. He was smiling. The sun was shining through the open window and it smelled like something had burnt. 

 

Tsumiki jolted upright. She had slept too late and made Hinata cook! In a heartbeat she was apologizing as fast as she could get the words out, bowing her head so she wouldn't have to see how disappointed he looked. 

 

He interrupted her as kindly as he could, placing a hand on her shoulder and telling her that it was okay, really, he didn't mind. With an embarrassed laugh, he admitted that he had burnt the first round of toast and had to make them all over again. He cupped the back of his neck and blushed as he told her he liked doing things for her. Cooking breakfast, cleaning their apartment, brushing her hair, it didn't matter to him as long as she was happy, so wouldn't she please stop crying and come eat? 

 

When she nodded, he took her hand and led her to the kitchen, where there was a mug of steaming tea and honey, the one beverage Hinata could make with confidence, and a plate of the good batch of toast. She almost started crying again - he was so generous, she didn't deserve this - but held herself back because he wanted her to eat. The toast was atrocious. If this was the good batch, Tsumiki really didn't want to see the bad batch. However, he was watching her with those beautiful eyes, waiting to see if she liked it, so she forced her mouth up into something that looked more like a smile than a grimace.

 

Hinata snorted. “That bad?”

 

“No, it’s, ah, good! Really good! I lo-”

 

“Tsumiki, if it tastes bad, you don't have to eat it,” he interrupted gently. “I'll take it, okay? There's leftovers from dinner in the fridge if you want them.” 

 

Feeling ashamed, Tsumiki handed him her plate and made her way to the fridge, pulling nervously at the hem of her sweater. As she opened the door, she heard a sputter and hacking; frightened, she turned and rushed to where Hinata was coughing up a piece of toast. The Heimlich seemed unnecessary - her mentor had always told her if someone could cough, they had an airway, so they'd be fine. She patted him on the back a few times though, just to be sure. It would be terrible if her boyfriend choked to death. Nanami never let Tsumiki take care of them like Hinata. 

 

The boy in question spat the freed food lamely onto his plate and made a small noise of disgust. “Tsumiki-san, please never let me cook breakfast again,” he wheezed. His strong hands ran through messy hair, muscles flexing in a way that almost made Tsumiki forget the past five minutes. 

 

Testosterone had helped him build his muscles almost as well as Tsumiki’s estrogen had helped her gain volume to her hips. Their shots were usually on the same day - they'd planned it from the start. However, Tsumiki had opted to wait until Hinata had recovered from top surgery to go under the knife herself. She liked nursing him and changing his drains, even if he did make pitiful noises if she moved him the wrong way. He had been a helpful assistant to her during her own recovery, doing much more for her by bringing food and fresh towels than actual post-op work; he was terribly squeamish and Tsumiki insisted he stay out of the room when she checked how she was healing. It was almost as fun to nurse herself as someone else. 

 

Sadly, he seemed perfectly fine in regards to his near- choking incident, so Tsumiki helped him clean up the kitchen before they climbed back into bed. It was nice to not have anything to do for the weekend. Hinata had finished work for all of his classes by some feat of heroism (or probably three pots of coffee - Tsumiki would have to remind him of the dangers of caffeine addiction) and she was waiting on a call from her mentor at the hospital she interned at, so, not without mild protest from the nurse, he had coaxed her back under fluffy duvet and warm flannel sheets. His arm wrapped around her shoulder; she nuzzled into his bare chest as he opened his laptop with his free hand. 

She was almost asleep after an hour of some drama Hinata said Sonia had gotten him into when he gently ran his fingers through her hair. “Tsumiki.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “It's snowing again, look out the window.”

 

It was a credit to Hinata’s memory that he remembered that she liked watching the snow fall. She'd mentioned it before, winter of their last year of high school, when it snowed every day for almost a month. This winter the snowfall wasn't quite as heavy, but apparently something had reminded Hinata about her fascination with the snow. Even though she should've been tired of it by now, the way it stuck to things (things being Hinata’s and Nanami’s eyelashes as of late) was something she'd always liked. It was so easy to move fallen snow, but it stuck to things like poles when rain slid down. The circumstantial resilience reminded her of herself. 

 

“Hey, Mikan?”

 

It was always rare to hear Hinata call anyone by their first name. He preferred stiff formality in most situations, even if the situation was otherwise casual. She had followed suit, because what he liked, she liked. Maybe it was okay to call him Hajime if he had started it…?

 

“Hajime?” Her voice was unsure, tentative, wavering as their eyes met.

 

His face was pink, and he couldn't hold her stare for long. “Can I….. Nevermind.” There was silence for a beat until he took a deep breath and soldiered on. “I know we've been together awhile, but I still want to ask. Can I kiss you?”

 

Tsumiki giggled. He was so cute. Unable to think of a response that didn't make her seem stupid, she nodded, and he reached over to run his fingers through her hair torturously slowly before leaning in and brushing their lips together. He tasted like burnt toast and his mouth was a little cold, but she knew she wasn't much more appealing right now. His lips pressed more firmly against hers. She hummed happily.

 

Ten minutes later, she found herself pinned underneath him, the two of them laughing as Hinata pressed kisses down her throat and the TV drama, long forgotten, started its next episode and the snow fell harder outside the window.


End file.
